


[WIP] Incident Report

by Tradanui



Category: Haikyuu!!, SCP Foundation
Genre: But not in a super weird way?, Gen, Human Experimentation, Human/Non-Human Relationships, Mentions of Death, Multi, Non-human characters, descriptions of violence, general SCP style containment, like bad SCP testing death, locking people up for their own good, you'll have to be the judge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:37:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8310631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tradanui/pseuds/Tradanui
Summary: Haikyuu!! characters in the SCP Foundation universe; characters play roles of SCP Foundation members, scientists, D-class personnel, soldiers, SCPs, etc. Mostly written in a series of snippets that (hopefully) will come together into something cohesive someday.It's not really meant to be read yet, but I need to try to motivate myself to keep working, so it's here; chapters are probably going to vary in length a lot, so I apologize for that. More characters, tags, and relationships will be added as they actually occur in the story.





	1. The Forest Guardian

Containment personnel swarmed into the room, walls tall and impenetrable, black fading up into foggy white, the lines of distant trees giving the illusion of suddenly being in a dark and far removed forest. Guns raised, but safeties still engaged, each member was decked head to foot in battle armor; heavy helmets with opaque black faces that reflected what little light existed in the chamber, full body armor, thick boots, gloves. They'd been called in after the resident of the room had turned violent and attacked a scientist attempting to facilitate a room transfer. Now the room seemed completely empty.

The air was still with quiet, but it sat heavily on their shoulders, burdened with the weight of a piercing gaze. The captain of the containment squad raised a fist to signal his men, pausing briefly to look left and right. Then up.

His muscles seized as he jettisoned himself from his position straight backwards, barely avoiding the creature that plummeted from the unseen ceiling with a shrill shriek. It made contact with the floor, sending shards of concrete flying up, crushed to rubble; clawed feet crushing debris into small pebbles. Its head swung up, beak open, a monstrous screech following the barely survived containment officer, golden eyes glowing menacingly in the half twilight of its containment cell.

Static came over the headsets set into their helmets, the Captain's rough voice coming through loud and clear, "Safeties off, kids! Remember, no lethal shots to this thing, you're only gonna make it mad." He ducked as the giant feathered entity swung one long white and grey wing towards him, the powerful blow sending a few containment soldiers stumbling just from the pressure of the air.

The clicks of safeties being disengaged was inaudible against the horrific screams echoing off the not-quite walls, the _whoosh whoosh_ of large wings beating at the air, sending gusts of air towards soldiers. The Captain circled, never facing away from their target, shoulders tense, waiting for the next attack.

"Team alpha, prepare the net; team theta, get ready to fire distraction shots; zeta, you're backup," the Captain said calmly, though they could all see how his chest was heaving with exertion. He rolled out of the way of another swipe from a gigantic wing, the tip wisping threateningly against his leg. In the next moment, everything slowed to a dimly lit standstill, as though time had slowed to showcase this particular moment.

The distraction shots fired, the noise causing the creature to whip it's undulating head around. It scrunched up, and for a moment, it looked like a normal owl, though very, very large. Then it screeched again, the tufts on its head standing up aggressively, the gold of its eyes shining like small suns, and raised to its full height.

Wings came down, the shockwave sending several soldiers to their knees, others onto their backs, as the creature rocketed away from them with dizzying speed toward the ceiling. The soldiers could barely hear the voice of their captain as he shouted orders and formations over the blood pounding in their ears.

"Move, move!" He all but screamed, gesturing frantically with the gloved hand not gripping his gun. "Get back to the walls, it's coming back down!"

Panic began to set in, several soldiers abandoning their guns on the floor to stumble towards the walls for safety. If only they could make the cover of the trees, they'd be fine. If they could make it into the forest, they would be okay. The captain cursed quietly, not bothering to censor himself as he shook his head, trying to clear away the beginnings of the anomalous properties exhibited by SCP-135215. The trees at the edge of the room seemed more real, swaying in an invisible wind, offering shelter and protection. Several of his men were already pawing desperately at the walls, having been taken in by the confusion.

He set the weight of his gun into the palm of his left hand, right fingers still curled around the trigger. The darkness of the room was masking the presence of the creature he knew to be there, though his mind kept trying to insist that if he just ran for the cover of the trees, surely he would be safe. And happy. In fact everything he wanted was certainly in the forest and if he went there right now--

A sound made it to his ears with just enough time to throw himself onto his back on the ground, the rushing of a heavy weight through the air. The giant owl-like creature missed him by scant feet, wings snapping out to break its fall, swinging out and away from him, towards the men and women is various stages of panic and disarray.

"Get back on the walls!" He screamed into the microphone pressing against the side of his face under the black helmet. The sickening crunch of bones snapping filled the room as a soldier fell under the weight of the creature as it landed atop him, clawed feet outstretched. The scream lasted longer, mingling with the screech of the object of containment.

The captain rolled to his knees, aiming his gun at the monstrous entity perched on one of his soldiers. He pulled the trigger in quick succession, watched the jolt of the feathers as the bullets found their mark, cringed at the blood chilling shriek the creature let out, feathers darkening to a dark tawny as golden blood spilled onto the ground in thick trickles.

The fallen soldier had since gone silent, but the giant owl turned its attention away from its prize to face the squad captain, a low rumbling emitting from its heaving chest. Its eyes brightened again, the light so strong that the soldiers were forced to shield their eyes from the brightness. Then, as though flipping a switch, the light ceased, and they were cast into a darkness so complete that the world seemed to entirely fall away.

A moment of silence, and then the captain's voice, hushed, came over the headsets. "If you're touching a wall, stay there. If you're not, lay down where you are. Do not move. I repeat, until we can locate 135215, do NOT move. Turn on your mics, but only report if you think you see it. Or feel it," he amended, feeling cold sweat soaking into the short hair under the helmet. At least the overwhelming urge to reach the cover of trees had ceased with the light, allowing him and, presumably, the rest of his team to fully regain their sensibilities.

The headsets were filled with the sounds of shallow breathing, of quivering breath, and then one voice let out a quiet, anguished gasp, and gunfire bathed the room in light in sporadic bursts. The creature stood above one of the soldiers, one clawed foot squeezing at their torso as bullets fired near its shoulder, but didn't seem to affect it. The form seemed somewhat smaller than before, or perhaps it was a slimming quality of the way it had turned inky black, the same shade as the nothingness of the room, even its eyes black holes with no light emitting.

The gunfire abruptly stopped, and through the headsets was broadcast the sound of bones being crushed. Someone screamed.

There was a rushing sound, more screams, more snaps and crunches of bones being broken, and then a thud that shook the room, threatening to topple those still on their feet. Another thud, a slam that shook the walls and floor together, and then light streaming uninvited into the room as the west wall broke apart and the black owl threw its entire body weight against the crumbling mess one more time, breaking free from containment.

\--- **Containment Sector C** \---

Alarms blared as the giant black bird stalked down the white hallway, black eyes trained on the movement of fleeing personnel before it. A door a few meters in front of its advancement burst open, revealing a small number of the same containment personnel, armed and led by their captain. SCP-135215 retracted its neck to its shoulders, the motion seeming fluid without any kind of depth or definition left to its form to follow the movement. Guns trained on the escaped creature, they waited. It stalked forward, shuffling its feet as though suddenly wary. Above its head sailed the net, weighted at the edges so that it fell in a perfect arc over the monster, curling around its feet.

Immediately, it lifted its massive black wings, the scream from its opened beak echoing shrilly off the closed in white walls, vibrating the air. It spun, pulling the net closer around its feet, wings only outstretched a quarter of their impressive wingspan. It was enough to knock down the soldiers behind it, having stood close enough to toss the net.

A taloned foot reached up, snagging a section of net and pulling. At first, it seemed that it would be able to hold the creature, but with a particularly vicious tug, the net tore, leaving a large hole. Black, flat eyes brightened back to gold, the lights of the hallway dimming as though being drawn into the creature's gaze, as fallen soldiers scrambled back to their feet.

Suddenly, its movement ceased, the dim lights slowly brightening again, as the giant owl seemed immobile, staring straight ahead. The feathers at its head slowly gained back their definition, bleeding back to white streaked with grey. It shuffled forward, towards the group of stunned soldiers, bright golden eyes locked onto a soldier slowly rising to his knees, one gloved hand stemming blood from a cut over his eyebrow, helmet knocked away.

His dark eyes were slow to open, squinting in pain from the blow as well as the blood dripping into his eye. The shadow of the giant owl paused over him, hunching down to look more closely at him; short, slightly curled hair, a pair of dark, serious eyes. The breath stopped in his throat as panic seized his muscles, his eyes opening in fear as the sharp beak of the giant winged predator came within inches of his face.

His vision swam as his vision narrowed sickeningly, the bright white walls spinning with vertigo. His head fell forward, his view of SCP-135215 reduced as he breathed in, trying to quell the nausea. It seemed he sat there for an awfully long time, waiting to be ripped apart.

"Are you okay?" someone asked him, voice soft and full of sympathy. He tried to shake his head, remove the rushing sound of blood pulsing against his eardrums, but the motion made the sick feeling in his gut worse.

"Hey," the voice called again, closer. He could hear the shuffling of his fellow soldiers somewhere close by. "Hey." Closer, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pounding in his head. "Hey?"

His eyes opened, still squinting against the flow of blood into his eye. Golden eyes stared into his own, bright and vibrant set into a face drawn with worry, white hair spiking up and away from the strikingly human face, streaks of grey pushing through the strands into the horn-like tufts.

"Oh, wow," the man said, his lips quirking in a smile. "You're beautiful." One hand reached forward, brushing gently against the cut on the soldier's forehead. "Your eyes," he breathed, thumb brushing away the blood, framing the soldier's face gently. "You're, wow, you know, you're really gorgeous." Those gold eyes closed slowly, blinking owlishly, that easy smile still stretching his lips.

"What's your name?" he asked, still hovering over the crouched soldier, paying no attention at all to the other security personnel standing close by, their captain slowly closing the distance, gun lowered.

"A-" the soldier started, his eyes glancing over the strange man's shoulder towards his captain, his helmet and shoulder marked with a red streak signifying his rank. "Akaashi," he finally completed, eyes roaming back to the bright golden stars shining in front of him.

"That's beautiful too," He seemed to suddenly realize he was kneeling on a cold floor, because the man stiffened rather suddenly, looking over his shoulder at the group of fully armored men. "What do they want?" he asked no one in particular.

Akaashi watched in growing horror as the bright gold of his eyes began to shine brighter, his hair taking on a feathery texture as the man seemed to shift and stretch.

"Akaashi!" the voice of his captain broke him out of his terrified trance and Akaashi reached forward, fumbling against the thin white fabric over the man - the creature - something like a robe, smearing his own blood red across the front. Immediately, the creature paused, eyes falling back to Akaashi's pale and frightened face, and his body seemed to collapse back on itself as he turned his full attention back to the injured man.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay? You're bleeding. I won't let them hurt you."

"They won't hurt me," Akaashi let the words tumble out of his mouth, his breath shaking. "This is my friend," he gestured behind the man's shoulder, waving his hand a few times before his captain reached up and pulled off the menacing black helmet, revealing a worried face with eyebrows drawn low over his dark eyes. "This is Sawamura. I've known him for a long time."

The look of suspicion slipped off SCP-135215's humanoid features with apparent gusto as he smiled welcomingly and extended a hand towards the man approaching him, holding his helmet at his side.

"Hello, I'm Bokuto," he said, waiting for Sawamura to gently drop his helmet, refusing to drop his weapon, and reach forward with one gloved hand. "What were you doing here?"

"We're here to protect you." Sawamura said slowly, eyes still drawn into a calculating frown. "Would it be okay if Akaashi took you to a new room? We were trying to move you into a new room when..." he trailed off, looking away from SCP-135215 and towards Akaashi, who was sternly shaking his head.

"You were?" the creature asked quietly, expression falling from happy and exuberant to puzzled and unsure. "I don't remember very well... I remember eating something and my food tasted weird and then I got mad! And then someone came into my forest and," he stopped abruptly, turning to face Akaashi, his eyes wide and fearful.

"I hurt someone, didn't I." It wasn't presented as a question, but more like a statement. He looked away immediately, hurt clouding his bright eyes, making them dull. "Can you take me to my new room?" he asked in a meek voice.

"You," he specified in a rushed wheeze, looking back up at Akaashi, eyes pleading. "Please take me where I'm supposed to go."

Akaashi nodded, allowing SCP-135215 to pull him to his feet, though his vision spun dangerously once he'd gotten up. The creature's fingers were slightly hard in his grasp, like they were more bone than flesh, but he allowed their hands to intertwine, leaning slightly against the white-haired man as he slowly led them down the hallway, past still masked personnel who moved subtly out of the way. The creature walked slow and steady so that Akaashi wasn't rushed, watching him closely as they went.

As the two of them slowly made their way down the hall, Sawamura watched, then turned to gesture his remaining men towards him to start doling out orders. The old room would have to be set up for reconstruction, as well as the damages in the outer hallway. Not to mention the soldiers that needed to be moved to the medical wing or the morgue. Whoever was at fault for this having gone so wrong was going to have hell to pay... as soon as he figured out who it was.


	2. The Judge

**\---Research Unit Phi---**

Kageyama Tobio had been a researcher and scientist with the SCP Foundation for three years. In that time he had seen impossibilities, disaster and ruin, gruesome deaths and mind-numbing horror. He had witnessed the death of countless D-class personnel (not actually countless, as he was required to keep track of each death under his watch in research sector Phi).

Perhaps that accounted for why he felt numb to the death surrounding him, the never-ending experimentation involving dangerous creatures and artifacts. He shrugged one shoulder noncommittally, just thinking about it. He had been warned after all.

_"Tobio-chan," Oikawa's sing-song voice had chastened him, waving one finger in front of his own face, perfectly smug expression flawless. "You're going to get all sorts of dark and warped down here working with these things. You know that, right?"_

_"Someone has to do it," he had responded, tearing his eyes away from the taller man's very punchable face, returning his attention to the Petri dish in front of him, watching cells move and separate. He tried not to jump when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing gently._

_"I guess that's true," Oikawa had conceded, voice light. "Besides, maybe your personality will grow into that mean face of yours." Kageyama could feel his face pulling into a frown even as he tried to ignore Oikawa's pestering._

_"Shut up," he said, eyes glued to the microscopic activity. Silence fell over the room long enough that Kageyama thought maybe the other man had actually left, but just as he began to relax into the stillness of the room, a quiet voice spoke again. The tone was off, and Kageyama fought with all his willpower not to break his concentration to look over his shoulder at his senior scientist._

_"Maybe with you down here, we'll get something done," on anyone else's lips, those might sound like words of praise. "You're a genius after all." Another pause. "Keep up the good work, Tobio-chan. I'll be watching for your progress."_

It wasn't more than a month after that somewhat awkward interaction that Director Nekomata had announced that he was taking Oikawa as his personal assistant and would be training him to take over the Foundation when he retired.

_"Or die," the old man had said, eyes crinkled in an unnerving smile as he looked down at the gathered Foundation members. "Whichever comes first." Then he had laughed, and walked away._

Kageyama glanced down at his clipboard, eyes skimming over the paper to see his schedule of experiments for the day. One couldn't exactly be called an experiment as much as it was SCP maintenance; Oikawa had called it "monster nannying." He had been assigned a certain number of D-class personnel, so he would have to figure out how best to make use of them.

He brought his pen to his lips, tapping a gentle rhythm against them, his mind wandering again, looking over the numbers. Maybe he was becoming numb; the thought entered his mind without his permission. The numbers spread over the bottom right of the page were _people_. They were D-class numbers, but they represented real human beings, criminals though they were. And he was trying to figure out which ones would be used for a potentially lethal experiment, which would be used for a certainly lethal experiment and...

Which would be eaten.

**\---D Class Dorm---**

Being rounded up from the rooms where they slept and spent their time waiting for inevitable death was not pleasant. Several D-class personnel announced through the speaker on the wall were seemingly ignoring their summons. Iwaizumi didn't bother to pretend he hadn't heard his assigned number. He stood from the bunk he had been occupying, making a beeline for the door. It didn't matter anymore.

When he was accused of a murder in his hometown, he had thought maybe a bad prank was being pulled on him. Being convicted had been bullshit. Being put on death row had made him deny the existence of any God. When he had been given the option to come here, to die a bloody and horrifying death, he had thought, what the hell, why not. This life was obviously not working out for him. Maybe, if God _was_ real, he'd get another chance, another life. Reincarnation seemed like a cool idea.

The guard on the outside of the door looked down at him with disdain, shoulders drawing up and stiffening as though threatened, but Iwaizumi simply held his hands straight out to accept the heavy cuffs that he knew were coming.

"Stand on the wall," the guard grumbled, clicking the cuffs securely into place. "Don't think about running. I _will_ shoot you." He patted the handgun strapped onto his hip, but Iwaizumi just nodded, taking his place on the white wall, waiting.

It seemed like all he did was wait. Wait to be used for an experiment, wait to be fed, wait to bathe, wait to die. Wait to die. Wait to die.

Slowly, more bodies joined him along the wall, until the guard walked towards the center of their line and stopped, turning in military precision to face them as a group.

"You're all going to research unit Phi today," he said. Iwaizumi felt an eyebrow quirk up in interest. He had never been told what he was doing before. Though, it had only been about a week and a half since he had watched with a sense of finality as a man with one of those blue medical masks tattooed a number on his wrist, then asked him to open his shirt to inscribe the number above his heart as well.

944826\. That was his D-class personnel designation. He had no idea if that was a running tally of the people who had been sent to this place as lab rats, or if it was based on something else. Rather suddenly, the line began to march, and Iwaizumi realized that he had zoned out, missing whatever else the guard might have said. None of the other D-class personnel were reacting, so maybe he hadn't said anything else. Iwaizumi marched along with them down the hallway.

**\---Research Center---**

They stood, still in a line inside the research center while a young man with black hair that fell in his eyes and steel blue eyes looked down at a clipboard, occasionally looking up at the group of criminals before him. Iwaizumi watched him, curious. He seemed young, though with the way his face wore an almost perpetual scowl, he would probably get wrinkles soon anyway. He wore black slacks, a simple light blue button up shirt tucked in, a white lab coat over top, an ID badge clipped to the lapel.

"Alright," he finally said, flipping through a few of his papers. "I need everyone whose number ends in an odd number over here," he gestured toward a different wall, looking at them sternly. "If your number ends in an even number, follow my associate to the room next door," another young man standing nearby stepped forward, waving nervously at the group. "If your number ends in a six, stay where you are." He paused for a moment, then his expression twisted a bit further and he barked out, "Now!"

There was a flurry of movement, personnel hastening to follow orders. Iwaizumi looked left and right, finding that only himself and one other man were holding position. Both groups were led out of the room, one by the guard who had brought them in, the other by the other scientist, and the black haired man stood staring at the two remaining, lips pursed in concentration.

"So, according to your files," he began, glancing down at a page, then flipping to a different one. "You were both convicted of first degree murder." Those steel colored eyes glanced up at the two of the, flat and emotionless, and then the scientist let the hand holding his clipboard fall to his side.

Iwaizumi didn't answer, just stares straight ahead. The other man shifted from one foot to the other, then said, "Is that all it says?" The scientist with a somewhat menacing face looked the other man in the face, simply replying, "No."

After another silent moment, he gestured for them to follow as he took a few steps towards the back of the room, towards a door set exactly in the middle of the wall with an electronic access pad next to it. He swiped his ID card against the black sensor panel, and the door made a loud click as the lock released. He opened the door and stood aside for the two D-class personnel to walk through first.

On the other side of the door was a long hallway. "Go to the third door on the left," the scientist instructed from behind them. Iwaizumi strode forward, grasping the doorknob and twisting it, allowing the door to swing open.

The room was somewhat small, probably 10 square feet, with one wall mostly made up of a huge two way mirror, showing another equally small room, very dimly lit, with a bed in one corner, sheets tucked perfectly. Iwaizumi jumped slightly as the door closes behind them, and the door clicked as the automatic lock was engaged.

"464416, please enter the containment room," the dark-haired scientist instructed from the entrance to the room, clipboard once more held stiffly in his hands, a pen posed over the papers. The other man shrugged, moving forward to open the door next to the two way mirror, walking forward into the dimly lit room.

Immediately, the scientist began writing, though Iwaizumi couldn't see anything worth taking notes on in the other room through the mirror.

"Experiment initiated," the scientist whispered, still writing. "D-class personnel entered room at 14:27... no immediate reaction... 464416 was convicted of one first degree murder and one second degree murder..."

Iwaizumi continued watching through the mirror, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, his skin prickling and crawling, and slowly, his heart began to beat faster as a kind of terror washed over him.

"At 14:30 SCP-4228 has begun Judgment."

A shadow several shades darker than those clinging to the walls moves in the other room, the form low to the ground and predatory, like a large stalking cat. The man in the room noticed it in the same moment that Iwaizumi did, immediately backing up against the wall of the room.

It only took an instant, scant seconds, and the shadowy figure lunged forward, and where its teeth sink into the D-class personnel's arm, his entire body warped and twisted as though being sucked into a black hole, disappearing into the creature's mouth, a scream echoing mutedly off the walls.

Iwaizumi stood completely still, his eyes glued to the incomprehensible form still slinking in and out of the shadows in the room, blending and bleeding into them easily.

"944826, please enter the containment room," the scientist said, as though nothing had just happened, as if Iwaizumi could easily just walk in there. He turned slowly, cold sweat running down the back of his neck, meeting those bored and unrelenting blue eyes.

"Why did it do that," he asked, voice shaking slightly. He watched the other man's mouth open, but continued. "I know I don't have a choice but to go in there, but I just... why did it do that to him?"

There was a short pause as the researcher considered him, then gave a short sigh. "It judged him guilty; it feeds off of guilt and wrongdoing. It eats those who harm others; at least, that's what we think so far, thus the experimenting." Then he nodded toward the door, face still impassive.

"I didn't do it," Iwaizumi stuttered, his heart racing against his chest. "I was wrongly convicted."

The other man sighed, deeper, and something resembling a loss of respect crosses his features. "Of course," he said, voice indicating that he thought Iwaizumi was full of shit. "Please enter the containment room, 944826."

The doorknob was cold in his hand, heavy and slippery. Maybe that was just the sweat on his palms, slicking his skin and making him feel sick. The door opened for him, shutting heavily behind him once he entered the room, turning slightly to see where he knew the mirror to be. He didn't move, standing completely still with the door at his back, breathing heavily and knees beginning to shake.

A quiet voice filled the room from a speaker above the two way mirror. "Please stand in the center of the room."

Iwaizumi dragged his lead-heavy legs forward, every second ticking by as if in slow motion, his vision narrowing. Panic was certainly setting in, but he couldn't do anything to stop it, or even to save himself.

Everything happened so fast. He watched the shadowy form of the predatory cat detach from the shadow beneath the bed, and from here, closer, he could see that its eyes shone like blood, like liquid. It moved forward, crouching, snarling, hissing silently. Seconds stretched on as Iwaizumi was certain he would die from a heart attack before this thing could possibly devour him.

It lunged forward, and Iwaizumi screamed as pain rushed through his leg, up into his torso, fire running through his muscles and veins, his palms blazing as though lit by actual fire, and his vocal cords straining as he felt himself being pulled forward, and then everything went black as he heard the voice of the unseen scientist yelling over the intercom.


	3. Reporting the Situation

**\---Foundation Director's Office---**

Oikawa set another stack of completed paperwork on Director Nekomata's desk, nudging the stack to make it stand straighter, a small, satisfied grin curving his lips. He'd been powering through class-change requests all morning as requested by the Director, starting with the really obvious ones, occasionally pulling from the more complicated requests. For a break, he'd gone over some personnel requests: pending vacations and days off, as well as requests for use of certain SCP .

He walked away from the desk towards the office door, waving amiably at the two secretaries at the entrance to the room, one holding out another stack for him to take with him. A sound pierced the gentle quiet of the room and he stopped in his tracks. The phone on Nekomata's desk was ringing.

He watched the secretaries exchange a worried glance before he managed to turn on his heel and rush back the way he'd come, snatching the phone from the cradle and holding it to his ear.

"Oikawa," he said by way of greeting, voice steely and devoid of its usual friendly tone. "Director Nekomata is not at his desk but I will summon him immediately."

"Oikawa!" the voice on the other end of the line gasped, relief evident. "It's Kageyama," he sounded like he was panting for breath, and immediately Oikawa felt his heart stutter in his chest, worry clenching like a vice grip. He wasn't always on great terms with the younger man, but they'd been through a lot together.

"What is it, Tobio-chan?" he responded, keeping his voice calm. "Talk to me, why are you calling the Director's line? What happened?"

Kageyama audibly inhaled, then let go of the air in a rushed sigh. "One of my experiments for today went... oddly." He paused, hesitating. "I'd rather not speak of the circumstances on the phone. Can you come down? Or Director Nekomata, I just don't think I have the level of clearance to decide what to do from here."

"It's not an emergency?" Oikawa asked, feeling his lips curling up into a sneer. "Why did you call this line if it's just a matter of clearance-"

"I would consider it an emergency, but as far as I can tell, the situation is stable at this time." Kageyama interrupted him, voice dark and angry. "Please just come as soon as possible so we can proceed." Oikawa could tell that Tobio wanted to hang up on him, but was resisting the urge.

"Alright," he conceded, sighing lightly. "I'll be there in a few minutes, and I'll send a notice to Director Nekomata to meet us if he's able."

The "thank you" was barely out of the receiver before Tobio apparently hung up, and Oikawa turned around to the worried, pale faces of the secretaries by the door. He flashed them a charming smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing to worry about," he tried to assure them. "Just an unexpected experiment reaction, no breach or anything." He could see them visibly relax, though they still carried a stiffness of wariness. Probably a good quality in a Foundation member, honestly. "If one of you can send a direct message to the Director and have him meet me in Research Phi, that would be great." He walked through the door between them, walking at a slightly faster than leisurely pace.

**\---Research Unit Phi---**

Kageyama had been pacing by the door to SCP-4228's containment chamber for four minutes and approximately 34 seconds when he heard the clack of dress shoes approaching and looked up from his clipboard to see a familiarly haughty face topped with perfectly styled brown hair approaching. Oikawa walked briskly, but even this he did with a sort of grace that seemed unfair to Kageyama, whose lip curled slightly against his will at the sight.

"Let's go in," Oikawa said, gesturing to the containment room door behind his colleague just as Kageyama opened his mouth to suggest just that, prompting him to snap it shut and nod stiffly instead. He ran his ID card against the reader and unlocked the door, walking ahead, leaving Oikawa to enter behind him.

Through the double sided mirror, the other room was dark, darker than he had ever seen it, like the ever present shadows were clinging to everything inside, becoming murkier and less visible.

"Talk," Oikawa ordered as the door clacked shut behind him, leaving them alone in the viewing portion of the room. "Slowly, and calmly." he added after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was performing a routine experiment," Kageyama began, glancing down at his notes. He noted the times recorded but didn't recite them; Oikawa would ask if he needed precise details. "Feeding of SCP-4228 has been one of my duties since I became a permanent researcher at Phi." He pauses, looking up to meet Oikawa's stare.

It was always incredible, really, that Oikawa was capable of having such serious expressions, Kageyama mused. Most of the time, the older man looked carefree and casual, though he knew it to be a forced presentation to fool onlookers. Still, when his eyes blazed with intensity and his face was schooled into the look of concentration, Kageyama fully backed Nekomata's decision to name Oikawa his successor.

Oikawa made a small noise in his throat, not breaking eye contact, which Kageyama took as assent to continue. "SCP-4228 has, through years of testing, been shown to feed by absorbing the life, and bodies, of humans; we have always fed it D-class personnel, and the more violent crimes they are convicted of, the more interested it is, though we've also seen it express interest in D-class who were responsible for deaths that they hadn't directly caused." he paused briefly for a breath, wondering vaguely if Oikawa already knew these things; if he was wasting his time with the explanation.

"Today I had two D-class with very violent convictions, and it has been a while since we've fed it, so I thought I would feed it two-"

"Has that been done before?" Oikaway interrupted, his expression unchanged. Kageyama dipped his head in a nod, flipping a paper over on his clipboard. "I've done double feedings twice in the past year, and a triple feeding twenty months ago. No aberrations or abnormalities noted." Oikawa nodded, sated by this information, his eyes darting over Kageyama's shoulder at the darkened glass.

"Continue, then," he instructed, one hand gesturing patiently.

"The first feeding went exactly as usual, but the second," he paused again, the hairs of the back of his neck prickling uneasily. "The second man told me that he was innocent, but that's hardly the first time I've heard that from a D-class. He entered the room, SCP-4228 approached as usual, and then it bit him and disappeared." The last left him in a rush, like it was relieved to be free from him.

OIkawa's eyebrows shot upward into the fringe of his bangs. "Disappeared?" he repeated, shock around his eyes. "What about the D-class?"

"He collapsed," Kageyama said, gesturing to the mirror panel. "He wasn't absorbed like usual, he just screamed and then fell down, and then I called the Director's desk, and that's when it started getting so dark in there."

Oikawa's eyes were glued to the glass, darting back and forth as though it would help him see past the dark shroud casting the room into shadow. He took a step toward it, then paused as his cell phone rang gently at his hip. Immediately, he pulled the device and put it to his ear.

"Oikawa," he greeted, much as he had from Nekomata's desk. He paused briefly, and Kageyama could hear a gruff voice speaking. Oikawa held his entire body still, listening intently. "Yes, sir," he breathed, still looking forward. "I'll see you momentarily, sir." He shut the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"Alright, Tobio, let's get a move on. Go out into the hallway and walk east until you run into Director Nekomata; tell him everything you just told me while he walks here, but faster." A flash of white teeth that most people would call a smile, but Kageyama mostly called a baring of teeth, a threat display.

"What about you?" He asked, even as he moved towards the door, raising his ID card to allow him out of the room.

"I'll stay here," he said simply. "Even though it's still contained, someone should stay here and observe. I can't answer any more questions to Nekomata that I didn't ask you, so you need to get him filled in before he gets here."

The door was already open, and the tall, scowling man was already sliding out of the room before Oikawa could think of anything else to add. He turned back towards the glass, approaching it softly. Peering through the mirror, he could see hints of the room; the impression of walls, a bed in the corner, and a large, unmoving mass in the center of the room, crumbled on the floor.

**\---SCP 4228 Containment Chamber---**

Nekomata entered the viewing chamber, Kageyama directly on his heels. The old man was wearing slacks and a sports jacket, which was the most formal he ever dressed. Oikawa nodded in greeting, saying nothing.

"Any updates?" the old man asked in a casual voice, and even that made Oikawa shiver a bit in relief. If Nekomata wasn't worried, then it would probably be just fine. After all, the Director had seen and lived through so much that he only got worked up about the bad stuff.

"No, sir," Oikawa said, gesturing to the viewing mirror. "I haven't been able to see anything, just as Kageyama said."

Nekomata approached the mirror, but instead of standing there, or even bothering to look through it, he bent over slightly and began prying at a small metal console nearby. He pulled it open, pulling a key out of his pocket and inserting it into the console and turning it.

"What," Kageyama began, immediately stopping himself nervously. He glanced at Oikawa, who smiled smugly and asked the question bursting from Kageyama's expression.

"What actions are we taking here, sir?" he asked, aware of Kageyama's heated glare directed at him.

"I'm resetting the room," the Director answered in an even voice, not looking up. "It's set to dim in the absence of movement, and this particular SCP likes to lurk around when it gets dark so I'm going to turn the light back up and see what it does."

The lights in the room beyond went off just then, throwing the containment room into total blackness and then, suddenly, the overhead lights came on at full force, throwing the room beyond into stark brightness.

In the center of the containment room lay a D-class personnel, face down, completely still. Nekomata glanced into the room, straightening up and nudging the console shut with his knee. He leaned forward, squinting through the mirror. He pressed a finger into the button to activate the intercom.

"Hey," he called, then stopped. No response. "Hey," he said again, a little louder. Nekomata grumbled under his breath, then turned back to the two young men watching him intently.

"Stay here and keep trying to establish contact. Try to wake him up, if he's alive. If you get a response, call me. I've got other shit to take care of, but I'll arrange for someone expendable to go in there and check up on him if he's still immobile after twenty-four hours."

Oikawa nodded, reaching towards the door, but stopped as Nekomata caught his wrist is his suprisingly tight grip. "No," he said, looking up at Oikawa's surprised expression. "I meant you. Stay here. You," he gestured to Kageyama, who stood stiffly to attention when addressed. "Give him a hand and keep in contact with this observation room, but don't neglect any other work you have."

A chorus of "yes, sir" marked Nekomata's departure, and Oikawa and Kageyama looked at each other in the small room, then away.

"I do have a few more things to do," Kageyama said hesitantly, staring pointedly at the door. "You have my number though, right? Call or text me if you need anything." He reached forward once again to exit the room.

"Okay, Tobio-chan," Oikawa sighed. "I'm going to be so bored, though."

Kageyama managed to conceal his rolling his eyes by walking out of the room without turning back.


End file.
